Sunday, January 21, 2018

For Some, Relics are Weird. For Others, a Way to Connect to God

The
idea of lining up to look at the bones, flesh or ashes of dead people strikes
me as weird, and a little bit morbid.

But
that doesn’t mean it isn’t meaningful for many people—especially Roman Catholics.

That’s
what’s happening across Canada this month as the right forearm of St. Francis
Xavier, the sixteenth century Jesuit missionary, travels across the
country. (Photo above.)

Although
many find the practice strange, the veneration of relics has a long history in
the Christian church.

One
of the first recorded instances goes back to the martyrdom of St. Polycarp, the
Bishop of Smyrna (now Turkey), who was killed by the Romans in the second
century.

After
his death, the Romans burned his body to prevent Christians from venerating it.

But local believers collected fragments of the body to remember him and others “who have run their race and to prepare those
yet to walk in their steps.”

By the Middle Ages, the
collection of relics, was in full swing.

Today, a tourist location is
popular because it has a great beach. Back then, when most tourists were
pilgrims, it was relics that mattered most.

Since having a relic was a
great way to boost the economic fortunes of a town or city, competition for
them was fierce. The bodies of saints were cut up, sold and even stolen.

The body of St. Francis was
spirited away and hidden by his friends in Assisi after his death, reportedly
to prevent another city from stealing it for its church.

Over time, the Catholic Church came to regulate the trade,
display and veneration of relics, putting them into three groups: First
class relics are the body or fragments of the body of a saint; second
class are things that a saint owned; third class are items a saint
touched or that have been touched to other relics.

As it turns out, anyone
can own a relic, even though the Roman Catholic Church forbids making a profit
off their sale. (It’s
called Simony.)

A search on eBay shows
hundreds for sale such as the “rare and holy relic of Saint Mary Magdalene” ($599),
the “holy papal relic of Saint Pius the tenth Pope,” ($499), and medal touched
by the American Catholic saint Ann Seton—a bargain at only $9.95.

Catholics aren’t the
only group known for relics, although they probably have the most.

Muslims show respect to
things like the sandals or hairs from the beard of the prophet Mohammed, while Buddhists
can reflect on the Buddha’s tooth and ashes.

While relics might still seem strange to me, they are meaningful
to many people—like my friend Deborah Gyapong, an Ottawa-based journalist who
covers national politics and the Catholic Church.

The former evangelical church member once found them to be “weird,
macabre and/or superstitious.”

Today, as a relatively new Catholic, she finds that relics remind
her of the “physicality of our Lord” and of the “concrete, historical reality
of saints who followed Jesus, perhaps to martyrdom and who brought the Light of
the Gospel wherever they lived and suffered.”

Additionally, they help her understand the “incarnational and
historical reality of the mystery of Christ's life, death and resurrection, and
of Christ in us, the hope of glory.”

For
Father Michel Boutilier, a Jesuit priest and
chaplain at St. Paul’s High School, relics help connect him with Jesus.

Relics, he says, are not objects of worship. Instead,
“they point to Christ—he is the one we worship,” he says.

He is also quick to note “there is no magic in
the relics”—venerating them won’t bring you good luck, like winning the
lottery.

Instead, he shares, relics are vehicles of “grace
that can change our lives. They don’t impart grace themselves.”

Of course, not every Christian feels this way about relics. Not
even all Catholics agree about the place of relics in their faith; it can vary
according to age, country and culture.

But at a time when our increasingly secular society seems to be
pushing spirituality to the margins, maybe we all need tangible ways to be
reminded there is more to life than things we can only touch and see—there are
mysteries beyond our physical comprehension.